


your hair in the moonlight

by intertwiningwords



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crushing, F/M, Multi, Wrackspurts, druna, prefect duties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 02:41:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13965606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intertwiningwords/pseuds/intertwiningwords
Summary: draco might be falling for a certain ravenclaw girl.





	your hair in the moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> i've always really lowkey shipped this but never admitted it but you know what? fuck it. i love rarepairs. sue me.
> 
> hope you enjoy!

Draco wasn’t hungry. It wasn’t uncommon for him to stalk the halls during dinner, and sneak off to the kitchens later if he wanted something to eat. It was one of those nights.

Usually, he went unnoticed, unbothered aside from a Peeves or one of the ghosts. He liked the sound of his shoes against the empty, echoing halls and the quiet compared to the Great Hall, full of people laughing and talking, their voices bouncing off the walls and seeming to aim like daggers at Draco’s head, leaving him in a sour mood with a migraine.

But he didn’t expect to find someone else on his walk.

Her footsteps were quiet, which Draco quickly realized was because she was barefoot. Merlin, how did she walk on the freezing stone like that? Her blonde hair fell in waves down her back, and it didn’t take him long to recognize her, even from the back.

“Lovegood?” he asked softly, not wanting to startle her.

But he should have known the girl was not easily startled. She turned around calm as ever, unfazed by his presence. “Hello, Draco. Have you lost something too?” she asked.

In the moonlight through the windows, she looked pretty, the light dancing on her pale skin and reflecting in her blue eyes. He cleared his throat. “No, I was just...thinking,” he replied, unable to come up with a better excuse. It then occurred to him that he was a Prefect, and should probably give her detention for wandering the halls, but that would be ridiculously hypocritical of him. And he didn’t want to. He didn’t mind abusing his power when it came to snotty first years, but Luna...Well, Luna was different.

He wasn’t sure why.

Her lips turned up in a small, dreamy smile. “Too many Wrackspurts?”

He had no idea what the fuck a Wrackspurt was, or if it even really existed. He’d heard other students say it in a mocking impression of her high-pitched, lofty voice. People were truly cruel. Draco deserved the bad things people said about him, and he knew that. Call him a prick all you wanted, because he owned it. But there was no need to tease such a sweet, innocent girl like Luna Lovegood.

He returned her smile, though it was slight. “I suppose. What did you lose?”

She looked down at her bare feet and wiggled her toes. He swore her dreamy smile turned a little sad. “My shoes. Again.”

“Would you like help looking?” he asked before he could think the question though.

She looked him up and down as if searching for a joke in his tone. Maybe she was more self-aware than he thought. But after a moment, she seemed to relax, and that smile returned. 

“That would be lovely, Draco.”

If anyone asked, he was simply fulfilling his duties as Prefect, helping a fellow student locate a lost item.

They walked silently for a while. He had seen other students hiding her brightly colored Muggle Converse around, so he had an idea of where to look.

“So, what exactly are Wrackspurts?” he asked, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

Her eyes seemed to light up a little when he asked as if nobody had ever asked her that in a non-condescending tone before. That thought saddened him. Crazy or not, she deserved someone who would listen to her talk about the things she was passionate about.

It seemed Draco was becoming that person.

“Well, they’re these little invisible creatures that fly in people’s ears and make your thoughts all fuzzy,” she explained. “If I had my Spectrespecs I could check if you have any…”

“Maybe I do,” he said. His thoughts had certainly been jumbled and incoherent lately. There was so much going on, it only made sense. “Is there a cure?”

“Try thinking positive thoughts!” Luna replied.

What an oddly cute concept. It almost made Draco nauseous, though part of him grew fonder for the blonde girl as she talked. Nonsense or not, she spoke so confidently it almost made him believe her every word.

Positive thoughts. He hadn’t had those in a while.

“Oh, there they are! That’s a new spot,” Luna actually frowned, and it was the first time Draco had ever seen her do it. It made his heart twinge a little to see her sad. Maybe Wrackspurts really had gotten to him.

Dangling off a rafter on the ceiling were her pink shoes. A student must have asked Peeves to put them up there or something. Draco huffed.

“Accio shoes,” he said, pointing his wand at them, and down they came into his hand. “Here you are.”

As he handed them off to her, their fingertips brushed, and he felt heat rush to his cheeks and tried to ignore it or play it off or just hope she didn’t notice.

She smiled again, but there was something knowing in her eyes. Damn Ravenclaws and their observation skills.

“Thank you, Draco,” she said in that soft, lofty voice.

“Anytime,” he replied casually, but the way she said his name forced his lips into a smile. “Next time someone does this, I’ll find out who and give them detention, alright?”

“Oh, that’s alright, I don’t want to get anyone in trouble,” she said, pushing her light hair behind her ear.

“Luna,” he said, reaching out to gently put a hand on her upper arm. She didn’t flinch away. “You shouldn’t be the punchline of their jokes. They deserve to get in trouble for treating you like that.”

Now Luna’s cheeks seemed to be flushing, though he couldn’t tell if it was his imagination or not. She nodded.

They could have parted ways there, but Draco insisted on walking her back to her dorm.

“If you get hungry, you can always sneak into the kitchen,” he told her. “It’s by the Hufflepuff common room. You know the painting with the pear?”

“I think so,” she replied.

“Tickle it. I know it sounds weird, but trust me. The house elves are really nice.”

She giggled, and Draco couldn’t help but chuckle too. Hogwarts was really an odd place. Odd like Luna. Odd like him, maybe.

Whoever said that odd things were bad?

“Maybe I will go,” she said. “You didn’t eat either though. You should go too.”

Was that her indirect way of saying ‘Meet me there at ten’ or ‘I want to see you again’? He couldn’t tell. Nothing was straightforward with her, it seemed. He kind of liked it though. Being kept on his toes.

“Maybe I will.”

And she walked down the corridor towards her dorm, still just carrying her shoes (seriously, weren’t her feet cold?), and Draco watched her go, the skirt of her uniform falling just above her knees and her hair bouncing on her shoulders.

He would wait in the kitchen all night if it meant he would see her again.

 

***

 

“Where were you at dinner?” Pansy asked.

She and Daphne were shameless with their PDA. Pansy was sitting in her girlfriend’s lap on an armchair by the fire, both of them reading from the same Potions textbook.

“I wasn’t hungry,” Draco replied nonchalantly, sitting down in the chair beside them.

“You’re never hungry,” Blaise said from his spot on the couch. “No wonder you’re so tiny.”

Draco threw a pillow at his head. “I’m not tiny. I’m a normal size, thank you very much.”

The stereotype was probably that the Slytherins sat in stoic silence, playing chess and plotting the murders of Muggleborn students or something. Surely the Gryffindors spent their evenings drinking Firewhiskey and partying then, or Hufflepuffs did nothing but homework and sing songs around the fire, or Ravenclaws studied and had debates about pressing political matters.

Gotta love stereotypes, right?

Draco couldn’t concentrate on Potions homework. Pansy would let him copy it, mostly because she would be excited that he considered her intelligent enough to copy from. Which was ridiculous, of course, he thought she was smart; he wouldn’t be friends with her if he didn’t (Crabbe and Goyle were an exception to that, obviously). She was just insecure, and anything to boost her ego couldn’t hurt.

So, he copied hers, finished the last few lines of a Transfiguration essay due the next day, and shoved his things back in his bag. 

“Where are you going, Draco?” Daphne asked.

“For a walk,” he replied shortly. He didn’t feel like coming up with a better excuse.

They didn’t question him, thankfully. Still, in his uniform, he made his way to the kitchens. He hated the way his mind kept being pulled back to the thought of Luna there, sitting upon a counter and looking at him with that soft, bright smile.

The cure for Wrackspurts was positive thoughts. Think about something happy. Think about winning the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff last week. Think about the good marks on his Herbology essay. Think about Luna Lovegood and her blonde hair and her pink shoes and-

Fuck.

When he entered the kitchen through the painting, there was no sign of her. He tried to shake away his disappointment.

“Master Malfoy!” Dobby cried upon seeing him.

“I’m not your master anymore, Dobby,” Draco reminded, smiling down at the elf with as much sweetness as he could muster. Prove you’re not like your father. Be kind

Positive thoughts. ‘I am not like my father.’

“Right, right...Sorry, sir,” Dobby said.

House elves were doting by nature, and it seemed not a single one could stop offering him food. He almost felt guilty turning it down, the way their big eyes stared up at him.

The painting opened, and Draco’s head snapped up so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash.

There she was, all pale and blonde and beautiful. She was in Muggle pajamas, striped blue bottoms and a white shirt with some logo on it that he didn’t recognize.

As a Pureblood, he should hate all Muggle things. It was hard to hate them when they were on her body though.

“Hello, Draco,” she said, giving him that smile.

“Hi,” he replied. Idiot. 

Even the elves seemed to notice the change in atmosphere, going about their shuffling instead of fussing over either of them.

Luna walked over, taking a piece of treacle tart and nibbling the end of it. Her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, strands of it falling out into her face. Draco wanted to reach over and gently push it back behind her ear, but his hands stayed still and stiff in his lap.

“Thank you for telling me about this,” she said. “I thought I could last until breakfast but when I got to my bed, my stomach started growling.”

He smiled. “This castle is full of great secrets.”

She ate more treacle tart, and he watched her, trying to be subtle (It wasn’t really working).

The silence wasn’t as awkward as he expected. It was almost comfortable. Her presence was calming and stressful all at once.

“Thank you for telling me the cure to Wrackspurts,” he finally said. “I can think clearer now.”

“Of course. So little people know about them, but they’re very common.”

He could listen to her talk about it for hours. Her voice was soothing, and he could fall asleep to it if her words didn’t catch his attention.

He was going soft, wasn’t he?

“I should probably get back to my dorm,” she said suddenly, standing up and shoving another treacle tart into her pocket. “See you around, Draco.”

He barely had time to stutter out “goodnight” before she was gone.

He went back to his dorm a while after, thanking the house elves for their work.

He fell asleep to thoughts of Muggle pajamas, treacle tart, pink shoes, and dreamy tones.

 

***

 

It had been a week since his last encounter with Luna.

They met eyes in the halls sometimes, and they would give each other quick smiles before going on their way. They had no classes together, which Draco was secretly grateful for. He wasn’t sure he could concentrate if she was around.

Prefect duties got boring sometimes. Patrolling the halls and scolding first years only made you feel so special. Every once in awhile, something entertaining would arise.

Two Ravenclaw boys, probably second years, were laughing about something down the corridor, and Draco had a sneaking suspicion he knew why.

Sure enough, the shorter of the two boys held a pair of pink sneakers in his hand.

“Hey! Do you two think it’s funny to steal other student’s things?” he asked, death glaring them.

Ah, yes. That rush of power was back. They practically cowered at the sound of his voice, neither answering his question.

“Give me those,” he snapped, and the shoes were handed back to him instantly. “Three weeks of detention for both of you.”

“But that’s not-”

“I’ll make it four,” he threatened, quirking an eyebrow at them.

He walked away with a proud smirk.

He saw Cho Chang in the hall after dinner, Luna nowhere to be found, and he approached her.

“Chang, you know Luna Lovegood, right?”

She seemed confused as to why he was talking to her, which was reasonable. “Um, yes, her dorm is next to mine. Why?”

“I saw some second years trying to hide her shoes. Would you give them to her please?” he asked.

“Sure, no problem.”

She gave him some kind of smile that made him uneasy. Not the kind that indicated she wouldn’t follow through with his request, but more like she knew the true extent of his intentions.

Please let Cho tell Luna it was him who found them. Please.

 

***

 

Mail time was always fun in the Great Hall. Sometimes a kid would get a Howler and get everyone laughing. People got gifts from home that sent their families surrounding them to see. People gossiped over flirty letters and complained about their parents.

Draco pretended not to care about drama, but he drank that shit right up.

He wasn’t surprised to see his owl flying in, but he was surprised when he took the letter. He didn’t recognize the handwriting, which simply said “ _ Draco _ ”.

Eyes darting sideways to make sure his friends were being nosy elsewhere, he opened it.

_ Dear Draco, _

_ Thank you for finding my shoes. Cho told me you found them, and then I heard two second-year boys complaining about a blond, Slytherin Prefect who gave them three weeks detention. I put the puzzle together pretty quickly. Anyway, I just wanted to thank you for that too. You certainly don’t live up to your reputation. I’m glad I get to meet a bit of the real Draco Malfoy. I’d love to get to know him more. _

_ ~ Luna _

 

Draco folded it back up quickly, praying the flush in his face would go unnoticed. Pansy was too busy kissing Daphne’s cheeks, and Blaise was reading a letter from his mother. He was safe.

 

_ Dear Luna, _

_     Of course. I should have given them four weeks, but I was feeling merciful. The real Draco would love to get to know you too if you’re up for it. As the big bad Slytherin Prefect, I get special privileges. Well, not really. I’m just trying to make myself sound cooler.  _

_ Meet me on the grounds tomorrow during dinner? We can sneak food from the kitchen later.\ _

_  ~ Draco _

 

He didn’t hear back from her by the time dinner rolled around. Fuck it. He was going, and if she didn’t show, oh well. 

He waited five minutes. Nothing. Another five. Nothing. He was considering leaving when he heard footsteps behind him. He turned and saw a head of blonde hair and a sweet, dreamy smile. His shoulders relaxed. He let himself smile too.

They walked the grounds. It was still chilly as they approached the middle of March. Draco watched Luna shiver before wrapping his cloak around her shoulders. The flush on their cheeks could be attributed to the cold, but they both knew differently.

The sun had just set, and the moonlight made her hair look even more blonde and even more beautiful. And they talked. She talked about her father and the Quibbler and her mother and how bright she had been. He talked too, but a bit less. He liked hearing her voice too much to cut in.

It was getting colder and darker, and the two of them started to make their way back to the school, walking close together as their shoulders bumped. They made it to the door when Luna stopped.

“I like this Draco Malfoy,” she said.

He grinned. “He really likes you too.”

She had to stand on her toes (take that, Blaise!), but she took him gently by his green scarf and pulled him down to connect their lips. And he kissed her back, and they stood there for a while, kissing like the cold weather and their curfew didn’t exist, like no one else, nothing else existed. It was just the two of them and the moonlight.

It was a perfect night.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! feedback is always appreciated, in kudos or comment form.
> 
> tumblr: intertwiningwords.tumblr.com


End file.
